


Like A Girl

by someonestolemyshoes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Cop AU, M/M, based on art, undercover cop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5165321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemyshoes/pseuds/someonestolemyshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Damn right I fight like a girl.”</p><p>Like a girl, Bokuto thinks, is not a phrase he’d ever associate with Akaashi.</p><p>It’s not just the short hair, or the flat chest, or the sheer power in every ounce of muscle wrapping his arms or the fact that he, without hesitation, slammed him into the swimming pool like he weighed less than nothing. Bokuto’s known girls that could throw him farther than that and with even less effort, too; he’s seen entirely too much to fall for the stereotypes.</p><p>It’s just…well, no girl has ever sucked his dick quite like Akaashi is right now. And, certainly, no girl has ever done it with a gun strapped to one thigh and a badge strapped to the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so a tumblr pal asked me to write a drabble and it was supposed to be kissing but things got out of hand and there isn't even much kissing and I am terrible 
> 
> But it's based on this really cool art (http://ikipin.tumblr.com/post/132633448332/bokuaka-undercover-cop-au-this-has-been-laying-in) that you should all go look at right about now pls and also don't hold this against me I'm s orry there's a reason i don't write smut and this is why
> 
> (hyperlinking that shit is too much for me it's very late but please all go copy the link and look at the thing it's gold)

_“Damn right I fight like a girl.”_

_Like a girl_ , Bokuto thinks, is not a phrase he’d ever associate with Akaashi.

It’s not just the short hair, or the flat chest, or the sheer power in every ounce of muscle wrapping his arms or the fact that he, without hesitation, slammed him into the swimming pool like he weighed less than nothing. Bokuto’s known girls that could throw him farther than that and with even less effort, too; he’s seen entirely too much to fall for the stereotypes.

It’s just…well, no girl has ever sucked his dick quite like Akaashi is right now. And, certainly, no girl has ever done it with a gun strapped to one thigh and a badge strapped to the other.

 

 

* * *

 

He isn’t sure how they ended up here and he isn’t sure when he ended up with his pants around his ankles and  _god_  he can’t even remember his own  _name_  with the soft press of Akaashi’s cheeks hollowed around him and his throat closing every time he swallows.

Akaashi’s good - thorough; Bokuto thighs are damp and aching from the lave of Akaashi’s tongue and the suck of his lips and the nip of his teeth and he was shaking, knees weak and thighs quivering before Akaashi had even touched his cock.  

Akaashi sucks him and Bokuto moans, knocking his head back to rest against the cold stone. He rakes his nails over Akaashi’s scalp, teases his fingers down past his ear and over his neck and when he finds the torn wire he twists it and pulls the corner of his mouth up into a smirk.

“They’re going to think you’re in  _trouble_ ,” he says and laughs, and Akaashi slides his mouth back off his cock with a wet pop and peers up through his hair.

“Shut up.”

“Yes  _sir_ ,” Bokuto purrs on a grin. Akaashi doesn’t smile, he isn’t coy or teasing or cute like girls; he serious, impassive at best as he rests his tongue against his bottom lip and blunts his teeth with his top and it’s fluid, one long, smooth motion when he takes Bokuto right to the back of his throat.

“ _Ah._ ” Bokuto’s mouth falls open when he sighs and he bucks his hips forward, eyes squeezing closed and breath hitching in his lungs when one of Akaashi’s hands slides up the inside of his thigh, nails raking over bites and bruises just hard enough to sting, and rolls his balls between his fingers.

“ _Jesus,_  what are they teaching you at police academy training?”

Again, Akaashi slips back, just enough that his lips brush the head of Bokuto’s cock when he talks.

“They didn’t teach me how to give blowjobs,” he says, and he opens his mouth again before he hesitates and adds, “or to give sexual favours to possible  _suspects_.”

“Sshh,” Bokuto says, grinning, and he smooths Akaashi’s hair back from his forehead. “Don’t think too hard on it.”

Akaashi doesn’t move, just keeps his lips resting on the head of Bokuto’s cock and his face remains collected, but the fingers cupping his balls squeeze a little too tight and Bokuto raises a palm in placation.  

Akaashi’s still looking up at him, eyes bright green, lashed thick and black and his lips are wet and pouted where they’re pressing tighter and tighter to the head of his cock and then Bokuto’s throwing his head back because Akaashi’s tongue sneaks out and teases his slit. Bokuto clenches his jaw, wills his hips to stay still while Akaashi tongues him and the hand holding his balls leaves, trails up over his groin and fists around his cock, pumping and twisting while he sucks a little more between his lips.

“I take it - ahn,  _oh_  - that this isn’t your first time?” Akaashi continues and Bokuto tugs at his hair when he sucks a little harder, lets the edge of his teeth brush just enough to make Bokuto twitch. “ _God,_  Akaashi.”

“Stop talking,” Akaashi says and then he takes him all the way in again, doesn’t give Bokuto even a second to reply before he’s bracing his palm against Bokuto’s hip and digging his nose into his crotch.

It’s heaven, soft and warm and wet and every time Akaashi swallows the pressure around his head doubles. Bokuto takes his hand away from Akaashi’s hair to bite at his own knuckles, stifling the sound of his groans as his knees start shaking and his gut starts tightening. He’s close, so close, and one more solid suck might just do it - one swallow, one press of Akaashi’s tongue in just the right place and he’ll be done.

Akaashi’s next move is abrupt, so much so that Bokuto takes a moment to realise that he’s gone and when he does he opens his eyes, tips his head forward and blinks owlishly and Akaashi takes the fabric of his dress, on side in each hand and tugs hard, tears the slit until it rises up above his hip.

“What are you doing?” Bokuto says, fists half-heartedly at his own cock while Akaashi starts unwrapping and tugging something from his crotch. It’s a stretchy, nude piece of cloth, and Akaashi doesn’t even regard the thing as he throws it to the floor and gathers up the dress again, pulling it all to one side and leaving his bare ass on display. Bokuto chokes, stills his hand against his cock and stares as Akaashi braces one hand on the wall beside him. Akaashi licks his palm and pumps his own shaft, eyes lidded and heavy when he meets Bokuto’s gaze.

“Hurry up,” he says, “fuck me.”

Bokuto can only blink as Akaashi stares, all  _serious_  and  _expectant_ , and Bokuto regards him for a moment before the corner of his mouth pulls up in a smirk and he lets his fingers chase the belt strapping Akaashi’s badge to his thigh.

“I don’t have a condom,” Bokuto says and Akaashi huffs.

“I’m clean. Are you?”

Bokuto nods, and Akaashi blinks at him. “Then what’s the problem?”

“You know,” he says, “when I started flirting with you, I didn’t think you’d be so...open.”

“You also didn’t think I had a penis,” Akaashi says, “now  _please_ , shut up and put it in.”

“You really need to work on your dirty talk.”

“I don’t have  _time_  to talk,” Akaashi says, the first hint of frustration in his tone, and still Bokuto does nothing but stroke the skin of Akaashi’s thigh.

“Won’t it hurt?” He says, trails his hands around Akaashi’s leg and up over the swell of his ass. Akaashi shudders, rolls his hips back a little as Bokuto traces little patterns over his cheek until he’s teasing right between them. When Bokuto circles a finger against the ring of muscle he stills, leans in close until his breath is fanning over Akaashi’s ear and he smiles.

“Oho _ho_. I’ve never fucked a guy before so I can’t be certain,” he says, and he presses one finger in slow and steady, right up to the knuckle, savouring the tiny, low groan that slips past Akaashi’s lips, “but I don’t think it’s supposed to be wet here.”

Akaashi’s cheek flushes red and Bokuto isn’t sure if it’s from his words or his finger but it doesn’t much matter either way.

“What’d you think I was doing with my other hand?”

Bokuto moans at the thought and nips Akaashi’s ear between his teeth, sucks the lobe and rolls it with his tongue and he slips in a second finger, and a third and Akaashi bows his back and tips his head, lets his eyes slide closed and his teeth catch at his bottom lip. Bokuto grins; sex with a man can’t be all that different, he thinks, so long as he gets to use his fingers and his mouth and his dick in a way he knows well and he says so, smug and smiling and Akaashi opens his eyes and tilts his head against Bokuto’s shoulder to look at him.

“You need to aim more,” he says, and Bokuto frowns his brow and pouts his lip and lets his wrist still, fingers still buried in Akaashi.

“Rude, Keiji,” he says, wounded. “You’re  _supposed_  to encourage me.”

“But you could do better,” Akaashi says, “there’s a spot just a little further forward and if you -  _ah_!”

Bokuto’s face splits in a grin and he stares at the red haze settling high on Akaashi’s cheeks, at the split of his lips and the flutter of his lashes as he writhes, presses his hips back harder onto Bokuto’s fingers where they’re crooked, rubbing his prostate.

“You were saying?” Bokuto croons, and Akaashi fucks back onto his hand, little whimpers and huffed breaths slipping passed his lips.

“Fuck, Boku- hnn,  _ah_ \- shit.”

Bokuto’s own cock is throbbing, hot and aching and there’s a desperate kind of heat pooling in his stomach as he slips his fingers out - Akaashi grunts his complaint - and lines himself up.

The noise that slithers out of Akaashi’s throat when Bokuto pushes in is something else. It’s quiet, shaky and breathy and hitching because Bokuto goes slow, glides in inch by inch until Akaashi is panting, body rolling and writhing and aching for more.

Bokuto cups his hand under Akaashi’s jaw, tips his head back and sideways and slants his open mouth over Akaashi’s. The kiss is messy, all lips and tongues and teeth and drool and Bokuto licks away the string of saliva that trails between them when he pulls away, drags his hips back painfully slow and then he slams them forward, hard enough to make a noise as their skin smacks together and Akaashi coughs out a harsh, choked gasp and digs his nails into the back of Bokuto’s hand where it’s braced on his hip.

“Shit,” he breathes, “do that again.”

Bokuto grins, slides his other hand to Akaashi’s waist and grips tighter.

“Yes,” he says, sliding himself back until the head of his cock rests just inside, and then he grins. “ _Sir_.”

Akaashi howls.

Bokuto does as told, again and again and again until Akaashi is panting, cheek pressed to the stone beside his hand while Bokuto drives himself harder and harder, angling his thrusts against Akaashi’s prostate until he’s drooling, eyes squeezed closed and his mouth wide open.

“ _God_  - I’m close.”

Bokuto pants out a wheezy kind of laugh and presses his lips against Akaashi’s ear.

“Amen.”

Akaashi takes a concentrated second to twist his head and stare, deadpan, before Bokuto snaps his hips forward one more time and Akaashi is coming with a shout, eyes wide with surprise and his body shaking.

Bokuto isn’t sure how much longer his legs can hold him - his knees feel weak and his thighs are burning, quivering and threatening to crumble beneath him as he slows his thrusts and rolls his hips to ride Akaashi through his orgasm.

“You want me to pull out?” Bokuto says, voice a little slurred and words a little heavy with concentration. Akaashi takes a quiet, shaking moment to consider before he nods, mumbles his excuse into the wall and grunts at the oversensitivity as Bokuto keeps moving.

Bokuto doesn’t last all that much longer because there’s something about the way Akaashi’s insides are contracting around him, hot and tight and rhythmic and it’s too much for him to hold out anymore. He pulls out and fumbles to pump himself with his own hand, harder and faster than he’s used to and he comes with a shout muffled into Akaashi’s shoulder, opens his mouth and bites his teeth down hard enough to have Akaashi hissing.

“Man,” Bokuto says, laughing breathily and resting his mouth against the crook of Akaashi’s neck. “I didn’t even touch your dick. I’m  _good_.”

“I did it myself,” Akaashi says and to prove his point he lifts his hand, fingers sticky and white and dripping and he wipes the excess on Bokuto’s sleeve before he has a chance to complain.

“You sure know how to hurt a man’s pride, dude.”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego.”

“No, you’re here to stroke my-.”

A long, horrible, piercing wail screams through the air and Bokuto and Akaashi both jump, and then Akaashi is swearing, reaching behind him to push at Bokuto’s hips.

“Shit, move!” He hisses and Bokuto stumbles back, a little dazed and a lot offended, and he watches Akaashi tug the torn edges of his dress and tie them in place around his hips so he’s at least a little more covered. He tugs his badge from one strap and his gun from the other, flips open the chamber and counts his rounds before snapping it back into place and looking at Bokuto.

“Why are the  _police_  coming?” Bokuto says, shimmying his pants back up his legs and fumbling to do up the button.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Akaashi unhooks his earrings and tosses them to the floor along with the ring on his finger. “I am the police.”

“I’m aware,” Bokuto’s all wolfish smiles as he eyes the spot on his dress where Akaashi’s badge strap is once again hidden. “But why are they coming  _now_?”

“You said it yourself,” Akaashi says, and he fishes around for something at the back of his neck before pulling the feeble remains of his wire out from behind his ear. “They probably think I’m in  _trouble_.” 

**Author's Note:**

> yikes 
> 
> Thankin' for any comments/kudos/bookmarks or anything you're all fab and I am a trash bag


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